i'll be the queen, you'll be my king
by loved in shades of wrong
Summary: AU Future Fic: She won't give up without a fight. Even if the one person standing in her way of her happily ever after is the one person with which she wants to spend it. Because it's time for Caroline to fight for Klaus for a change.


Warnings: mild depictions of violence and swearing

Author's Note: My muse always wants to play come exam time. Good news for you; bad for me. So I really hope you enjoy this at my education's expense.  
I want to dedicate this to that one Guest who reviewed 'say i love you when you're not listening'. _Thank you so much_. You made me feel the fuzzies with your kind, amazing words :) (PS: it's obvious that she loves him; he knows. He just wanted her to fight for him to stay.)

She whimpers as he shoots another vervain-soaked wooden bullet, this time in the tender flesh under her jaw. When he roars with laughter and steps back, she tugs on all four of her restrains in the reflexive response to curl into a ball to protect herself, clenching her teeth as the vervain-coated ropes burn her skin, and then cries out desperately as the new bullet further lodges itself inside from tensing her mandible.

"I hope he comes soon, for your sake, beautiful," he leers, running a finger along her cheek. She turns her head to the side, fighting back a wince with a sneer. She'd bite his finger off if it wouldn't hurt to move her jaw. He chuckles before leaving the sickly filthy and dingy room, managing to close the metal door tightly before there's a shout and a thunderous bang against the door, and a dent forms in the middle of the door.

She jumps slightly, grimacing slightly as the ropes dig tighter against her wrists. She looks down, feeling drained, and can barely make out her own blood pooling on the ground below her. She tries to pull her toes down in an attempt to reach the disgusting cement floor. Of course, she fails. She knows nothing's changed; she's still suspended in the air, held up only by her wrists, and ankles restricted just inches from the ground. She's tried to pull against the ropes at least twenty times in the last... _God, how long has she been in here? Who are these people? And what do they want with her? _

Suddenly, there's a loud roar outside before the agonising sound of metal scraping against the stoned wall pierces her ears.

She doesn't lift her head. She's exhausted. It hurts too much. _Everything_ hurts too much.

"Caroline." The voice sounds familiar. But strange. It's a tone that she's hasn't heard before. Distress. Desolation. The corner of her mouth twitches. If they only knew.

The person approaches her, and she can't help but flinch slightly when they touch her. Her eyes clenches shut when they prob at the bullet in her thigh, gasping when they pull it out.

She finally looks up. _Klaus_. She whines in relief.

His eyes zones in to her chin and they darken to an almost black. She whimpers when he reaches out, pulling her neck back.

"Shh," he soothes, the back of his finger lightly grazing against her cheek, his eyes softening. "It's okay. I won't hurt you." She leans her head against his hand and his expression becomes gentle. "I'm going to get these out of you, okay?"

She doesn't nod, doesn't speak, doesn't move - _it hurts_ - so she just stares at him, willing him to understand. He does. His other hand drifts up to the bullet under her jaw while the one holding her cheek slides over the back of her head, driving his fingers through her hair. It calms her a little.

Everything seems to move quickly, and soon enough, she's falling into his arms as the last of her restraints loosens around her limbs.

"I'm here," he whispers, stroking her hair as she delicately wraps herself around him and cries. "Shh. You're safe, love. I've got you."

* * *

She's awake enough to know that she's in their apartment and he's placing her down in their bed, tucking the sheets up to her chin.

"Drink." He nudges something against her lips, and her senses pick up as she smells blood.

Soon enough, the bag's empty and she feels herself healing, her wounds only sting a little if she moves suddenly. Now she's just tired. Her head falls back against the pillows and she blinks sleepily up at him.

She half expects him to sit next to her. When he turns, about to walk out the door, she panics and grabs his arm.

"Where are you going?" _What if they come back?_

His back is still facing her as he shrugs.

"Please," she protests softly.

He hesitates, but as soon as he looks down at her, he moves to sit against the headboard. She wraps his arms around her before she clutches at him, using his chest to rest her head against.

* * *

When she wakes up alone the next day, she becomes alarmed. "Klaus."

A strand of her hair slaps against her face as Klaus flashes into the room less than a second later. "What is it?"

"I-I thought you left."

"I'm here." He sits down and presents her another blood bag. "Drink."

Hours later, they're lounging in the living room having The Hangover marathon because she needs a laugh, but he's not commenting on the "absurdity of the film franchise". ("Why can't you just _chill_ and have _fun_ for once?")

She's noticed that he's been distant all day but didn't say anything until the trauma wears off. Well, shock's gone. (She's kind of used to this whole kidnapping thing, depressing as the fact is. (Why is it that she always attracts the crazies?) Though the torture thing? Not so much.) And now she's upset.

"What's wrong?" She nudges his thigh with her fuzzy pink sock-clad foot.

"I think we should to stop this."

"C'mon, Klaus! Just turn your brain off and _enjoy_ something silly and fun!"

"Not the film. Although, whoever chose to pursue this ridiculous idea should get their head snapped." He reaches for the remote and pauses it. (The last time he completely stopped a movie she was in the middle of, she didn't talk to him for six hours.) "I'm talking about us."

She quints. "You're breaking up with me," she says with a hint of incredulity.

He pauses and looks up, like he's pondering over it. _British asshole. Would you like some tea while you mull over our relationship?_ "Yes."

"Seriously?" _He wants tea_!? She vigorously shakes her head. _Focus, Caroline, he's _dumping_ you._ She sits up and scrambles over to the other side of the couch. "Why," she demands. "Why now? After everything I've been through _just_ last night-"

"_Because_ of everything you've been through last night," he says harshly. She notices his breathing getting heavier.

She doesn't care. 'Cause she's pissed too. "Don't interrupt me," she snaps. He frowns. She glowers back.

He sighs and looks down. "You're not getting hurt because of me."

"Wow." She scoffs. "Excuse me, I can take care of myself." She ignores him when he snorts and lifts her voice to talk over him, "I don't need anyone - _you_, especially - to tell me what I can or cannot do."

"I don't care." He abruptly stands up. "I'm not taking any chances. Being with me strips you the pleasure of being safe."

"Four years, Niklaus." She gets up and in his face, jabbing him in the chest. "We've been together for a measly four years after _endlessly_ pursuing me, and you're ending it?" She laughs dryly, giving him one more stab. "It figures that just when I'm not, as you put it, 'scared' anymore, you become afraid."

"I'm not afraid." He casts a dark look down at her but she's undeterred. He growls and shoves the lamp that's innocently sitting on the table besides the couch. It flies out of the living room and shatters into pieces against the island counter in the kitchen, the sound echoing throughout the apartment.

She stomps her foot and pushes at him. "Klaus!" she reprimands. "For fuck's sake, that was _expensive_!"

"You don't get it!" He grabs her shoulders and shakes once. "If something happens to you, and it was because of _me_, because I was _too fucking selfish_ to let you go..." His breath stutters, like he's choking on his heart. She feels his vexation drain as his face screws up in despair. "I will never forgive myself," he wheezes. He lets go and drops onto the couch, his face in his hands.

She takes a breath. She's never seen him like this before. She doesn't think he's cared enough about anything to react this way.

She realises now just how much he loves her, and her heart drops so low in her tummy that she thinks the stomach acid is burning her poor heart. It certainly _feels_ like it.

"Hey," she says softly, kneeling down carefully. She squeezes her way in between his thighs and pushes away his hands, holding his face in hers. When he looks up at her, his expression turns heartbreakingly tender, the blue in his eyes softens to a beautiful shade that reminds her of Niagara Falls' exhilaratingly clear waters her dad took her to see when she was eleven. She closes her eyes because she can't look at him and not cry, pulling his head so their noses are touching.

He holds her sides, over her ribcage, pulling her closer to him. "I love you."

"If you walk away from me, you'll hurt me more than anyone else has, and then _I'll_ never forgive you." She opens her eyes, and he's staring right at her, his clutch on her almost painfully tight. "Can you honestly tell me that you can live with yourself knowing that?" She knows it's unfair to say that (even though it's true), because she's playing with fire. She's playing with what's left of his emotions. "Baby."

"I don't want to hurt you," he mutters between a clenched jaw. Her eyes sting when she sees his water over so she blinks a couple times before it becomes unfocused and she can't see him anymore.

"Then don't leave me. _Please_."

He eventually nods, after a drop rolls down his cheek. "I won't."

"Promise me." She grips his face tighter, her hands growing warm from his touch.

"I promise." She cries soundlessly in relief, crawling into his lap and burying her face into the crook of his neck. He wraps his arms around her and hides his face in her hair, snivelling.

Later, when she grows hungry, she moves to climb off his lap when he tugs her back and finds herself straddling him. He cranes his neck up and kisses her. She deepens the kiss and brings her hands to cover his ears before using that as momentum to pull apart. Gliding one hand through his hair, she lightly scratches the back of his neck, and he responds by rubbing his nose against hers and nipping her bottom lip. She smiles, charmed. Just like a puppy. "I love you."

The corner of his lips twitches. "I love _you_."


End file.
